I'll be watching
by oldmule
Summary: Set at the start of series 6. MI5 have not had a good few days. As they hang their heads in the shame of their job, Harry is missing someone more than ever. This time a glass of whiskey just isn't enough.
1. Chapter 1

**Set soon after the events of 6.1/6.2. The office is Ruth-less and all is not going well.**

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><p>She would not have forgiven him for today. She would have looked at him with judgemental eyes and he wonders if she had been here, would he have made the same decision?<p>

Blowing up trains on foreign soil, killing innocent people and then causing the largest case of plague in 300 years. It was safe to say it wasn't his or the service's finest hour.

He stood swirling the amber liquid around the bottom of his glass. He'd had one too many already. It seared its way down his throat and he enjoyed the heat of it, the burn of it.

He looked at the pictures of the bodies being removed from the wreckage, he scanned the list of victims at the hospital. And he wished she were here to admonish him.

Wished she were here and not in Cyprus.

He wondered how hot it was there right now. Not for the first time he imagined her sitting reading a book, a light sundress rising up above her knees, the sea lapping close by. He imagined her blue eyes shining brighter than ever within a tanned and smiling face.

Since she had gone he had often wished that he knew where, so that he could think of her somewhere safe, somewhere she would enjoy. But from the day an officer at 6 had contacted him to say he was certain he had seen the deceased Ruth Evershed alive and well in Polis, he wished he didn't know. He had denied it, naturally, recounted it was he who had identified her body, that they were mistaken. But now it haunted him.

"Malcolm!" Came the bark from the office.

He turned patiently from the pod doors, withdrawing the arm that had got as far as his coat sleeve.

"Yes, Harry."

"How secure are we?"

"Secure?"

"Our feeds, satellite, or otherwise."

"They are secure."

"Within this department, who has access to check the history of satellite scans?"

"All code 1 clearances."

"Make it only you and I, Malcolm."

"Of course."

"And Malcolm…"

"Harry."

"And only if you have to."

Malcolm nodded and slid the door shut.

That is when it began.


	2. Chapter 2

**The scene with the psychologist and Connie is a direct lift from 6.3, beautiful scenes and great dialogue, none of which are mine. **

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><p>Malcolm knew that the time would come.<p>

Now it had.

"Malcolm," said Adam with a puzzled expression, "I need to see the satellite sweep west of Tehran that was ordered last Thursday but I can't get access."

"No problem, I'll sort it" he headed off before any more questions were forthcoming.

Settling at a desk in the forgery suite which allowed him some privacy Malcolm opened the satellite feed history.

There on Thursday 12th was, as he expected, the authorised sweep of West Tehran. What was listed around it was what he had not entirely been expecting.

Monday 9th, 05.30–05.37 GMT Location: BLOCKED Auth. H.P.

Wednesday 11th, 10.21–10.28 GMT Location: BLOCKED Auth. H.P

Thursday 12th, 18.35-18.42 GMT Location: WEST TEHRAN, IRAN. Auth. A.C.

Friday 13th, 15.00–15.07 GMT Location: BLOCKED Auth. H.P

Sunday 15th, 12.41–12.48 GMT Location: BLOCKED Auth. H.P

REQUESTED: Tuesday 17th, 10.47–10.54 GMT Location: BLOCKED Auth. H.P

So the last was today.

Malcolm sat looking at the list. It would be easy enough for him to discover the location. But instead he reset the system.

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><p>"Adam," Malcolm called to an Adam who was in deep, close, whispered conversation with Ros, "it should be fine now."<p>

"Thanks, Malcolm," his attention returned to Ros.

Malcolm wondered about them and as he was doing so he noticed Harry, in his office, he too was watching them, he too was wondering. He wiped his hand across his forehead and glanced to a different desk on the grid.

Malcolm sighed. He missed Ruth too.

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><p>"It was beginning to look suspicious that the others couldn't view the satellite history,"<p>

Harry looked up sharply as Malcolm closed the door behind him.

"So I've reconfigured the system. They now have access but anything that comes direct through you will not be visible."

Harry's face relaxed.

"Thank you, Malcolm."

He looked back out onto the grid. Ros and Adam were still talking.

"They're getting close," said Malcolm.

Harry nodded and sighed.

"Why do we do it to ourselves, Malcolm?"

"Because we get lonely," was the simple answer.

Harry looked at him wondering if he had unblocked the locations on the feeds. But he knew he hadn't. He just knew his boss better than most.

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><p>Harry sat on the couch of the departmental shrink. Five times he'd missed his appointment. He'd tried for a sixth but Connie had bludgeoned him into it.<p>

And now here they were playing word association games.

"Pleasure…" she said.

"Cricket." he replied.

"Longing for…"

"Summer."

"Hiding from…"

"Aliens."

"Alone…."

_Don't go there. Don't think about her..._

"Scarlett."

"Reward…"

"Chocolate buttons."

"Missing…"

_Missing. Not that question. Hold it together_

"Something"

_Her. Aways her_

…Someone."

And then, thank god, Connie had rescued him.

"Thank you Connie, I think I was just beginning to get maudlin," he said striding away to safety

"Don't tell me you were lamenting the fact that there won't be a Lady Pearce to visit the Palace with?"

He hid his surprise only slightly.

"Even by your standards Connie that's impressive."

"Harry, I haven't just spent my time in Norfolk drinking gin and plotting the Murdoch family's downfall."

No, she clearly hadn't. And suddenly it made sense why she had asked him why there was no new ring on his finger. Did everyone seem to know how he had felt about Ruth, he wondered?

It was time to get back to his desk.

It was 10.42.


	3. Chapter 3

10.47 GMT.

Polis. Cyprus.

Local time 13.47

The feed switched. Live pictures.

The camera was passing above the town. He guided it to the pedestrian area in the centre. It was lunchtime and he hoped, as he had previously, that today he might find her … somewhere.

He had no clues to follow. He knew no name, no identity, nothing, he did not even know what nationality of passport she was travelling under.

He had tried morning, lunchtime, early evening. He had looked around the town, the shops, the beach, the cafes. Different days, different times, different places. This was all he had.

A seven minute window before the satellite passed over.

"Please, Ruth, please be outside."

The camera passed above the cafés swathed with large umbrellas. If she was under one he stood no chance.

Women walking. Dark haired women.

Let there be something that he would know, her walk, a mannerism, something.

Nothing.

Nothing in the west of the city. Now with only two of his minutes remaining he looked to the north. He dare not imagine that she had moved on from this town, he dare not think that when she had been spotted she was just passing through, he had to hope she was here somewhere and all he had to do was find her.

There was a large red roofed building, people coming and going. He zoomed to the maximum of the system's capabilities to try and catch faces. But none were hers. There were white coats burning in the glare of the sun, coats and uniforms. Nurses. A hospital.

This was the last placed he would choose to find her.

And so with less than a minute remaining he pulled back, seeing the brown land all around apart from the long stretch of green trees that led to the coast.

Something caught the sun and a small flare flashed and was gone. It was to the side of the hospital. Not knowing why, he zoomed back in to find what looked like a small garden area with benches. At its centre a simple fountain. Partly hidden by the branches of an overhanging tree he saw a figure sitting, head bowed over a book.

He pushed the camera further, further, further until there was no further remaining.

The display alongside showed the feed's cut off time…8…7…6.

"Look up. Look up," he urged, "please!"

…4…3…

The branch of the tree moved, a bird flying away. The figure looked up. Straight up. Straight down the lens of the camera thousands of miles above. Straight at him.

And he felt the sting in his eyes and the quiver on his lip.

"Ruth," he breathed across the void.

The door to his office slid open.

'KNOCK!" he screamed, looking back at a shocked and startled Jo.

"I'm sorry," she murmered, her eye caught by the slightest glimpse of an image on his screen as she turned away.

He looked back.

The feed was gone. The image was gone. She was gone.

Again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews. They really are, as always, much appreciated and keep me writing as fast as I can.**

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><p>"Do you have a minute?"<p>

Adam nodded and with a curious expression followed Jo into the quiet of the corridor.

"What is it?"

"Adam, I think Harry's looking for Ruth."

He shook his head and smiled.

"He wouldn't. He wouldn't risk putting her in danger."

"It's been six months and he's no closer to getting over her than he was then. You know it. We all know it. He's not the same man."

"He's Harry, besides he's not had a lot to feel too happy about lately, has he?"

"Adam, when was the last time you saw him smile, really? Felt him relax, even a little?"

"Okay, Jo, I concede he's not himself."

Her eyebrows were raised, he was wildly understating the situation.

"But he knows he can't go after her."

"That doesn't stop him looking."

"Why are you saying this, Jo?"

She took a deep breath.

"I barged into his office."

"Bet that went down well."

"Even less than usual. Not helped by the fact that I caught him looking at a picture…an image of Ruth."

Adam gazed at her, an unspoken 'so?' etched across his face.

"A satellite image, Adam. A _live_ satellite image."

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><p>The image was back, frozen on his screen, rewound and rewatched a thousand times. That uplifted face that he knew so well gazing up at him, filling his screen and his thoughts. Two fingers trailed softly down along the line of her cheek. He knew he was being ridiculous, he knew he shouldn't have searched, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he was.<p>

And the simplicity of it brought him more relief, more joy than he had felt in the last six months. And it really had been a very long six months.

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><p>"What are you going to do, Adam?"<p>

"For the moment, nothing."

Jo looked surprised.

"I'll keep an eye on him. Maybe he just needs to know she's okay and then he'll let it be."

"And maybe he won't."

"Jo, can you imagine Harry putting her in danger again?"

"No," she said without doubt.

"Then let's just let him have this moment and see if it passes. Let's face it he has more self restraint than, I think, the rest of us put together."

Jo nodded and she wanted to believe him. She really did.

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><p>Malcolm checked on the satellite feed history.<p>

The day's feed had happened. No more were requested.

He wondered just exactly what had changed and if that was the end of it?

* * *

><p>The grid was empty. Finally there was just him and Ruth.<p>

He poured himself a larger drink than usual.

"It's a mess, Ruth. The Iranians, the cousins, nuclear triggers, imminent war." He sat down heavily.

"Adam's digging himself a hole over a woman, an asset. Ros keeps disappearing and Zaf…

He looked at those big blue eyes and sighed.

"We've still not found Zaf."

He took a large slug of whiskey and sat gazing at her.

"I don't know what I'm doing without you, Ruth."

She didn't answer. But it didn't matter.

For the next two hours he sat, still and silent. And for that time the world felt a little less chaotic, a little less cold and a lot more forgiving.


	5. Chapter 5

**_One week later_**

He tried.

He really tried.

But the harder he tried the worse things got. One catastrophy, one impending disaster after another.

Finally he stopped trying.

Malcolm saw the satellite request.

Adam had asked him if he knew what Harry was doing. He'd said nothing as there was nothing to tell, all had gone quiet.

But now this.

He resolved to say nothing once more.

10.47 GMT.

13.47 Local Time.

The satellite passed over the small town. It's camera immediately directed to the Polis Chrysochous Hospital. To the garden.

He knew now that she worked there, he had seen a hint of the security pass around her neck, one of several small details he had noticed in the hours he had spent looking at her picture.

All he could do was hope that she would be there, in the same place, at the same time.

"Thank you," he whispered as he saw the familiar figure under the shade of the tree.

Today she didn't look up, her head was bent over her book. He wondered what she was reading.

After a minute she shifted on her seat, but her face stayed hidden. He didn't mind too much, it was enough to see her foot tapping out its own rhythm to some tune in her head, to see her fingers fidgeting and weaving through the light material of her dress, to see her tuck her hair behind her ear.

The Iranians didn't seem to matter anymore.

She looked up and then she smiled, she was saying something, to someone. He eased the camera out and there was a man in a white coat, a doctor he assumed. Was she needed? No, there seemed no hurry.

He watched as the man walked to the bench and sat down beside her. The camera zoomed back in. They were chatting, he said something and she laughed. His hand moved across the bench and touched hers but she pulled it away quickly. He stood up, bent low and said something and then he walked away. Ruth picked up her book and bent her head to it. And then she looked up. And smiled.

The feed was lost.

Harry was lost.

He would have been fine but for that final smile.


	6. Chapter 6

"Malcolm, close the door."

Malcolm had the uncomfortable feeling that he wasn't going to enjoy this conversation.

"I need you to do something for me," said Harry.

Malcolm waited.

"And I cannot stress how important it is that this is kept between us and that no traces of what we are about to do will exist. Nothing. Not one single electronic echo. Do you understand?"

"This is about Ruth," stated Malcolm by way of an answer.

Harry nodded.

"Is it wise, Harry?"

"Only if you can guarantee me no traces."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need access to a hospital's cctv in Cyprus."

"Is she sick?" Malcolm sat down heavily.

"No."

"In danger?"

Harry hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "she's under some kind of threat."

Malcolm looked at him and decided it the right moment to ask the question he had to ask.

"You wouldn't put her at risk, would you, Harry. No matter how much you love her?"

Harry cocked his head to one side, his eyes wide with surprise at the question.

Malcolm took a deep breath, "then I think I can give you your guarantee. Leave it with me."

And so it was.

The satellite feeds reverted to a more usual pattern, dedicated to terror cells, insurgents and Iran.

Malcolm, Adam, Ros and the team were kept busy by the chaos around them.

And Harry, well Harry had Armageddon to focus on. And a mole. And the Americans keeping him out of the loop. Oh, and a tall, swarthy, young Cypriot doctor. And Ruth.

If anyone had had time amongst the chaos they would have noticed that Harry's screen was angled a little more towards the back wall than normal. They would have realised that there were whole nights he never went home.

There was too much footage for him to review, not enough hours in the day to prevent nuclear war and watch out for Ruth. But yet, by god, he would make the hours.

He sat, tie removed, top buttons undone and spooled through the recordings until she arrived through the hospital doors and then he followed her progress to the open office on the second floor. He watched her sit down, arrange her desk as she liked it and settle to whatever mundane administrative work she was given.

And no matter that it was the middle of the night and he was exhausted, he still watched every moment she sat there, typing, chewing on her pen, or gazing out of the window thinking about something…someone?

He thought she looked healthy, well, content.

When she moved to deliver a file he followed her progress imagining that any moment she would round his door with that very file in hand.

She didn't.

After five days of his nocturnal surveillance he saw the doctor on one of the other camera feeds. And for a moment his attention strayed from Ruth. But not for long because in following the doctor he was brought right back to Ruth.

Harry watched, his face a mask.

The doctor stood in the office chatting to her and two other women and then he leaned over her desk, close, too close and said something to her. She shook her head. He asked again, is that what he was doing? Again she shook her head but this time she laughed. He turned away. She watched him and then called out something. Something. Something that wasn't a negative.

Harry snapped off the screen and tried to hide his face behind the palm of his hand, his fingers outspread, pressing down on his eyelids. Wondering why he was doing this.

He needed to sleep. He needed to go home tonight. But yet he needed to see more, no matter what it brought. And these images were not leaving the security of Thames House.

Reluctantly he turned the monitor back on and resumed his silent watch. A sentinel in the dark cold of London, standing guard over events that had already happened in the bright light of Cyprus.

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><p><strong>Probably more later today.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok, just seriously depressed myself with this chapter! Anna is the Iranian consul's wife who Adam was cultivating (that's the polite term for it!) and thought was dead...oh it's too complicated to explain! Hopefully you've seen S6 and then it makes sense.**

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><p>Malcolm was worried. He could see that Harry's terminal had been in use all night for the past few nights.<p>

My god, he wondered, what could the level of threat be against Ruth, to make him so vigilant, especially with all else that was going on.

In that moment he made a decision. To see if he could ascertain what trouble Ruth was in and if necessary to either share the burden with Harry and, or, tell Adam.

He logged in through the complicated security measures that he himself had put in place. He watched the same footage Harry had been watching and eventually he saw.

He saw the flowers appear on her desk at lunchtime. He saw the tall, attractive man come to her side three hours later, he saw them leave together and he saw the arm snake around her back.

And he understood.

"Oh, Harry."

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><p>"We need to talk."<p>

Harry looked up from his desk.

"You're a hypocrite, Harry." Malcolm looked more surprised at Adam's opening gambit than Harry himself.

"If this is about Anna, then as I said I'm sorry but you were too close, Adam. You couldn't be trusted to know where she was. Ros is right we had to get her out of the country."

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

Harry's eyes flicked to a rather guilty looking Malcolm.

"Can you be trusted, Harry?" insisted Adam, "To know where Ruth is?"

He didn't flinch as Harry rose suddenly, violently, to his feet.

"I would _never_ harm her!"

"Even unwittingly?"

"_Never!_" hissed Harry, striding to the window and staring out angrily at an always Ruth-less abyss.

"Then what are you doing, Harry?"

Nothing came back.

"Are you going to send her a message, find a legend, go over there? What? For fuck's sake, what, Harry?"

Malcolm thanked god for the unbreakable glass as Harry's fist came down hard upon it.

"NO! NO!" he shouted, turning, red faced back to them. "What _can _I do, Adam? Not _that_! _Not that_, though every part of me is screaming to do exactly that. To go, to tell her, to not come back. But I can't, can I? I can't put her in danger. What can I do but watch!"

Finally it was Malcolm who spoke, quietly, calmly, gently.

"Is that really doing you any good, Harry?"

"It did. Yes. It did," he replied quieter suddenly.

"And now?" prompted Malcolm once more.

Harry leant against the edge of his desk, head hanging, defeated.

"No. Not now."

"Harry," said Adam softly after a few moments "we need you here. We need to try and fix this mess we're all in and we can't do that without you. Ruth's safe, she's well, she's finally untouched by all this…mayhem. Do you want her to be here, worrying , grieving for Zaf, watching us make the worst decisions we've ever had to make?"

"Yes, Adam. Selfishly I want her here."

'Would you say she looks happy, Harry?" asked Malcolm.

Harry didn't look up from the spot on the desk he was totally focused upon but his head nodded the affirmation.

"Then, let's let her be," Adam added, "she deserves it, doesn't she?"

Harry didn't move for a long time and then he raised himself slowly to his full height and took a deep breath, looking to the wall as he crossed around his desk he began his instructions.

"Adam, I want this mole found. Malcolm, destroy every record, every trace, every link between here and Cyprus. Access my files, whatever it takes."

"And what about the next time you ask me to do something?' asked Malcolm genuinely.

Now Harry looked him in the eye, him and Adam.

"I will never ask again."

The two nodded and with sympathetic smiles they turned for the door.

"Malcolm," Harry called before the door slid shut, "give me half an hour first, would you?"

Malcolm nodded and was gone.

Harry logged on to his computer for one final time. The hospital office looked the same as ever. There were still flowers on her desk. But she wasn't there. He looked at the corridors around and found her standing talking to him. Their conversation looked pleasant and playful. A nurse passed by and said something, he glanced at his watch briefly before bending his head and kissing Ruth briefly, on the lips. He turned away leaving her leaning against the wall, she smiled and then she gave him a small wave.

Harry froze the image

For a long time he sat staring at it. And for once he didn't try to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his face.

"Be happy," he whispered.

And then he turned the monitor off.

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><p><strong>I know it's a hard journey but hopefully it's a faithful one to them. If you stick with me, I promise there will be a good resolution at its end!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the lovely reviews and apologies for upsetting everyone - I could tell you that this is a lovely fluffy chapter - but it would be a lie. I do promise that after probably three or four chapters we will get somewhere positive...honest.**

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><p>Harry wondered how many more times and in how many more ways he must be tested.<p>

Ros the mole. Ros of all people!

Juliet the mastermind behind Yalta!

The Home Secretary conspiring with the IRA to assassinate Section D!

Death and betrayal.

Finally after some of the hardest days of his life here they were. Iran with nuclear capability not for weapons but for reactors. Davie King captured. And access to the grid once more.

Harry poured a very large whiskey and sat staring at something unseen, his eyes dead and cold.

As the others filed their reports Jo stopped what she was doing, staring at the terminal before her.

"What's up?" asked Adam, perching on her desk.

"Davie King's records," she said nodding to the screen.

"And?'

"Adam, what did Harry say when he suggested taking the shot, wearing the body armour?"

"Why?"

"What did he say?"

Adam paused to recall correctly the conversation that had occurred before they all went to assemble around the bomb loaded taxi, before Harry had stated he would draw King's fire so they could spot his location.

"He said that it was a risk worth taking, that Davie King was a vengeful bastard and would most probably go direct for the heart."

'What, because that was his MO?"

"Yes," said Adam shaking his head, "though it was still a hell of a risk."

"More than you'd think," muttered Jo.

Adam looked at her, eyebrows raised, waiting.

Jo glanced to the screen and back to him.

"Excluding his liturgy of bomb victims Davie King murdered 17 people, 85% of his kills were through the head."

"My god," breathed Adam and they both looked to Harry's office and the man within.

"Do you think he knew?" asked Jo.

"He knew," said Adam.

Jo looked at him with wide eyes.

"I just don't think when it came to it that he cared too much, one way or the other."


	9. Chapter 9

**This is a slightly difficult chapter that has to take us across a fair old chunk of time, so please go with it, if you can. It will take us somewhere new and hopefully interesting at the end, if you still want it by then! **

**Several words borrowed from the writers of 8.1 and wonderful they are too.**

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><p>Somehow the world kept turning. And Harry with it.<p>

And for once he was grateful for the chaos, glad of the calamity. After all this was why she had left him behind, so that he could keep doing what he did, fighting the good fight. And so he did it, though he often pondered that he would have done it better if she were here.

But she wasn't here, she was there, she was free from all this, having forgotten all this, having forgotten him and he hoped, as ever, that she was happy.

The world turned and Ros came back to the grid.

The world turned and brought him the redemption of Lucas's return.

And for once he had regained some of the lost.

But then they lost Adam.

He wished he could have swapped places with him and that Wes could still have a father. But wishes didn't work.

And then there was Ben, killed by Connie.

Death and betrayal.

And the world turned once more and this time played its cruellest trick.

He sat, bound on a chair and heard Mani's quiet voice.

"There is a woman though, who also knows what I want. The one who was with you in Baghdad."

"She's dead. You can't get to her"

"She's very much alive as both you and I know."

And Harry's heart froze in his chest.

"She doesn't know."

"I think she does but even if I'm wrong, sometimes it's the pain of others that can make people break."

With those whispered words of warning, Harry was alone. Alone to ponder how they knew she was alive. Alone with the nausea. That it might have been he who had betrayed her location.

Ruth entered the room.

He had not changed. And she knew in that moment, wracked with guilt, that she had not changed.

Flesh and bone, not a cctv image, the reality of her stood before him and he felt the overwhelming guilt of being glad she was here, with him, again.

"You got married out there?"

"George is a doctor at the local hospital where I worked for a while."

His face gave nothing away. Now he knew the name. He listened as she told him the wonder of her life there. There was one question that he needed to ask and he couldn't help himself.

"And George…"

"He's a good and kind man, Harry."

"Do you love him?"

"I feel very guilty."

That wasn't my question…Ruth?"

But she couldn't answer him. Not him, Not here. Not now. Not looking at him and feeling as she did.

And as the wheel turned and George became another casualty in a life filled with death and she looked at him with hard, cold eyes he wondered if anyone could escape this and ever be happy.

As Ruth got in a car to take her to Nico, Harry looked at Ros.

"How did they find Ruth?"

"A 6 operative spotted her in Cyprus about 6 months after she left," Harry knew as much and now he dreaded the rest.

"He told Stephen Hillier."

Harry closed his eyes briefly and then felt Ros's hand slide onto his arm.

"It wasn't you, Harry."

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><p>He stood watching her, back on the grid with him, back in the depths of the Bendorf crisis. She was reviewing the cctv footage of the shooting. It reminded him of watching her in Cyprus, yet he was watching everyday life, watching her finding a life and now she was back here watching death. He was sorry she had lost so much but he was not sorry she was here, with him.<p>

The wheel turned once more and Jo was gone, Ros was gone and now Lucas.

Death and betrayal.

And another funeral.

"You alright?' asks Harry as he heaves his coat on.

Ruth's face is closed, guarded, as it has been since Albany, since Lucas.

"Fine," she says.

He knows he needs to tell her it doesn't work but he hasn't had the chance, not with the Inquiry. He wonders if it will make any difference anymore.

"You?" she asks, a hint of softness in her eyes.

"I don't know Ruth," he sighs, "I don't know whether to celebrate the fact that John Bateman's dead, dead and gone and well deserving after all he did, all he tried to take," he glances at her and shakes himself from the memory of her drugged and unconscious, "or to grieve Lucas, who rightly or wrongly I always held closest because I'd failed him.'

She straightens his coat collar.

"Then do both, Harry.'

He needs to hold her now but he can't. He needs her to forgive him.

"Let's go," he says and they turn to the pods.

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><p>"Hello Ruth,' says Malcolm as he sits on the bench beside her outside the church.<p>

She smiles, "Hi."

"You needed some air before hand?' he asks.

"Yes, actually I suddenly found I didn't want to go in."

"Harry?'

She nods towards the church.

"How are things between the two of you?"

"There isn't a two of us Malcolm, it's just work."

"Ruth," he says, admonishing the years old excuse.

"It's complicated," is all she adds, looking at the chippings at her feet.

"No, it's simple. It's just the two of you that make it complicated."

She smiles a little at that.

"Ruth," he says turning to her, "there are some things you need to know and Harry's such a… pompous old fool he won't tell you."

"But you will?" she says, interest and amusement equally peaked.

"Yes, I will. I'll tell you about the heart of the man, the heart I don't think you've ever opened your eyes to, Ruth. And it's about time you did."


	10. Chapter 10

**New mantra to self - do not write whilst hormonal - it's all far too emotional! **

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><p>"What are you really going to tell me that I don't already know, Malcolm? That he loves me enough to give away a weapon that can kill millions?"<p>

"You think he's selfish, that what he felt for you over rode what was right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you want him to love you, Ruth, or do the right thing? Which?"

"To do the right thing."

"Does that include protecting his officers?"

"To a point."

"And what if he decided to save one of them by giving away a bluff, a weapon that never worked? What about that, Ruth?"

"But it wasn't a bluff," she says.

"Wasn't it?"

"Malcolm…"

"Believe me, Ruth, it doesn't work. He sacrificed no lives for you."

Ruth sits and even though the hearse is arriving she does not move, she does not care about Lucas, she cares that Harry has not heaped the guilt of more death upon her.

"He's worn his heart on his sleeve for you for as long as I can remember. And he's always done the right thing. Do you know how difficult that's been for him?"

"He didn't lose his family, Malcolm," she says defensively.

"Didn't he?"

Malcolm looks at her challengingly. She glances away.

"You were his family, Ruth, you alone were the closest thing he had and he gave you up…" he glances as the undertakers lift the coffin from the car, "…twice."

It is not lost on her. Of course he never intended it to be.

"Malcolm?"

"He found out where you were."

Her eyes widen and demand more.

"By accident, a few months after you'd gone. Someone at 6 saw you in Polis."

"And told Harry?"

Malcolm nods.

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

"And he did nothing?" she says eventually, quietly, head bowed.

"He persuaded them they were mistaken, that he'd identified your body himself."

But Malcolm has misunderstood her meaning.

"He didn't come for me," she says and suddenly he is looking at the Ruth of years before, the girl, not the damaged woman he now knows.

"I wished he would. Spent so long imaging he would. Just… be there. Just appear and tell me it was all worked out, that I could home…with him."

Her eyes are filled with tears but she blinks them away.

"Naïve!" she states roughly, shaking her head and the Ruth of now is back.

"He watched you," says Malcolm.

'Watched me?'

"Booked the satellite feed. Until he found you."

Ruth gazes at him, waiting for more.

"It was a bad time, Ruth. He was in the middle of bad decisions, pulled in all directions and none of us, however willing, were the one he needed to talk to. I think it helped him, somehow, to see you."

"When was this, Malcolm?"

"About six months after you had gone."

A look of horror passes over her face.

"Is that how they knew where I was, Mani and the others, because of Harry?"

"No. No. It was Hillier who found out through the same man at 6."

Ruth nods slowly and then another heavy thought overtakes her and this one is worse.

"How long, Malcolm, how long did he watch me?'

"Not long," he knows she has guessed.

"Why did he stop?'

Malcolm takes a deep breath.

"He stopped because what was helping him get through the days began to tear him apart."

"…George," Ruth breathes.

"…George," echoes Malcolm.

"And still he didn't come," she says.

"He wanted to, he wanted nothing more, I think. But he couldn't put you in danger, he didn't want to drag you back into our world. He wanted you to live and be happy, Ruth. He saw you could be happy. He did what was right."

"And he could live with that?' she says a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Malcolm sighs.

"Has he ever told you about Davie King?'

Ruth shakes her head.

"He shot Harry."

She looks up.

"He was wearing a vest. It was a risk but in all probability it would be a body shot. That's what he told us. Until Jo found out that almost all King's kills were headshots. Harry knew they were."

She sits motionless.

"He gave you up twice, Ruth and always because he had to do the right thing regardless of how he felt. And he felt. Now, do you still think him selfish?"

Ruth didn't answer this time, instead her head fell onto Malcolm's chest and she let the tears come, the ones she'd learnt to blink away.

* * *

><p><strong>Conversation with the man himself, I think next.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Feel like I've written resolving conversations between them a thousand times so have come at this one from a slightly different direction. See if it works?**

* * *

><p>Malcolm sits down on the pew next to Harry.<p>

"Ruth?"

Malcolm nods outside.

"She's fine, Harry."

"Should I…?"

'No, leave her."

Harry settles back thinking that that's all he ever does.

* * *

><p>"Ok?" he asks gently as the few mourners walk away.<p>

She nods and he thinks her eyes look a little red. But he doesn't dare press anymore.

"Drink," states Malcolm.

"Drink," says Ruth.

* * *

><p>Dimitri, Tariq, Ruth and Malcolm sit at a table. Unusually for a wake their conversation is not about the deceased, they keep clear of him, they talk instead of times past and quiz Malcolm about agents they've never known.<p>

Harry stands at the bar, Ruth watches, aware of the sadness that seems to shroud him today, aware of much more besides.

"Crisps?' asks Ruth not waiting for much of a reply.

"You should have told me about Albany," she says as she settles beside him.

"I know."

He glances at her.

"How did you…?"

"Malcolm."

He nods as the barman delivers the drinks and change and reaches to pick the glasses up. Until, that is, a hand halts him.

"Harry, do you love me?"

"You know I do," he whispers, his eyes still on the glasses.

"You have a funny way of showing it."

Now he looks at her.

"Do I?"

She nods.

"It always seems like it's fairly obvious to me," he says sadly as his eyes rove her face and prove his point.

"I'm not sure, Harry. I think maybe the knighthood's exerting more influence than it should."

"The knighthood?"

"Yes, _Sir_ Harry."

"I don't understand, Ruth."

She smiles.

"Neither did I."

And she's looking at him differently, she's looking at him how she used to and he feels more confused than ever.

Dimitri is suddenly beside them, realising too late that they have stopped talking and are just gazing at each other. He curses himself.

"Sorry, just thought I'd…." he tails off and instead takes the drinks and heads back to the table, his head frantically indicating to the others that there's something going on behind him.

"It's all about chivalry isn't it?" says Ruth, "the way you love me."

"You have no idea of the way I …."

"It's noble, chaste… virtuous," she interrupts.

"Ruth…I…" he doesn't know what more to say to her.

"It's about doing the right thing? Do you always do the right thing, Harry?"

"I think, Ruth, that sadly it's something I rarely manage."

"I disagree. You can't help yourself. You do what should be done. You do the proper thing, no matter what the consequences for you."

"Are we talking about Albany, Ruth?"

"No."

"Right."

He is lost and there is something in his lack of confidence and his confusion that is wonderfully endearing.

"I'd like you to do the _wrong_ thing, Harry."

His brow furrows.

"The wrong thing?"

"Yes. I'd like you to do something out of character. I'd like you to do something _you _want to do, the thing you _most_ want to do and damn the consequences. Don't stand on the sidelines watching, don't step aside because it's the right thing to do, do what you want, for the first time in your life do what's good for you."

He looks at her, his chest rising and falling, his breath heavy.

"Be selfish, Harry," her eyes are burning with the challenge, "For god's sake for once be selfish. Take what you want."

His eyes are unblinking, intense.

"You've only got yourself to blame, Ruth," he breathes.

"For what?"

"This."

And with a swiftness that takes her truly by surprise she is in his arms, her breath lost in his mouth, her lips crushed against his. His eyes closed as he inhales her, breathes her, envelopes her.

Malcolm wonders why the team before him have stopped listening to his recount of how to dig a hole in the grid using only a guillotine.

He looks between them but their attention is elsewhere. And what ever has grabbed their attention it has also made them smile.

Slowly he looks over his shoulder, hoping to find some tenderness, some closeness, some sign of progress.

Yes, he thinks, that looks like progress.

He glances at the team with a small nod of the head. Within seconds the table is an empty one, the door swings closed.

It's down to them now.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue in all probability to come for some fluff!<strong>


	12. Epilogue

**Thanks for reading and for sticking through the angst!**

* * *

><p>His lips finally pull reluctantly away from hers.<p>

"I think it might be wise to continue this away from here," he whispers.

She tears her eyes from him and glances around the pub, no one is watching, in fact no one is even there.

"It seems we've driven the team away."

"Strategic retreat," he smiles.

They leave their untouched drinks and head for the door.

"You said…continue this?" she asks as they cross into the car park.

"Yes,"

"That's very… presumptuous."

"You told me to do what was good for me, Ruth. You told me to take what I wanted."

"Take?"

"Yes, _take_," he says and she suddenly finds herself partially bent over the bonnet of the car.

"Harry, what's happened to you? You've gone from Sir Galahad to Casanova in one fell swoop."

His mouth moves to her ear.

"And which do you prefer?" he asks in his deepest, silkiest tones and she wonders how one kiss can make such a change to a man.

"I think I'd just like Harry back."

He stands her up gently.

"I've never been anywhere, Ruth. I've always been right here."

"I know, Harry."

She smiles warmly at him.

"Come on let's go home and 'continue' this there then."

"This?" he says kissing her softly.

"Yes, _this_" she says repeating him and the kiss.

"What about Casanova?' asks Harry opening the door for her.

"He can come too," says Ruth with a smile.

* * *

><p>As they lie in bed he takes a deep breath.<p>

"There's something I have to say, Ruth."

"Finally."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's about time you said it."

"I love you, Ruth."

She smiles.

"Though that's wasn't it, actually," he says.

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be. I do."

"Me too," she smiles, stroking his chest. "I always have, even when I wasn't here."

He pulls her closer.

"So you wanted to tell me something… that wasn't that?" she asks trying not to get too distracted by his chest, or the fact that he is now pressing against her.

"Yes."

"And?"

"I don't want to go back to work."

"You don't?"

"No. I've had enough, Ruth. There's only one thing I want now."

"You've had that Harry."

He grins.

"And I want it some more. I want it here, available, on hand."

"On hand?"

"Oh bollocks Ruth, I …."

"Say it," she laughs.

"I want you. To be with you, to never leave you. It's all I want, just that, just you and no more."

"And that would make you happy?"

"Yes, Ruth. That would make me very happy."

"No more death and betrayal."

"I certainly hope not, not unless you intend running off with a waiter."

"A waiter?"

"Yes, well there'll be a lot of them around."

"In the café's?"

"Yes, the café's in Paris…" he says

"And Madrid…" she adds.

"And Rome…"

"Oh yes, Rome… Italian waiters…mmm."

"Ruth!"

"Don't worry Harry, you've out waited the lot of them."

He laughs.  
>"And you won't look at them?" he adds.<p>

"No, as long as you don't look at the waitresses."

"The only one I'll ever be watching is you, Ruth. And I promise to never take my eyes off you again."


End file.
